[CHARLES is thrown. Shout. Duke F. No more, no more. Orl. Yes, I beseech your grace; I am not yet well breathed. Duke F. How dost thou, Charles? Le Beau. He cannot speak, my lord. Duke F. Bear him away. [CHARLES is borne out. What is thy name, young man? Orl. Orlando, my liege; the youngest son of Sir Rowland de Bois. Duke F. I would thou hadst been son to some man else. The world esteemed thy father honourable, Thou shouldst have better pleased me with this deed, Hadst thou descended from another house. Cel. Were I my father, coz, would I do this? Orl. I am more proud to be Sir Rowland's son, His youngest son ;—and would not change that calling, To be adopted heir to Frederick. Ros. My father loved Sir Rowland as his soul, And all the world was of my father's mind: Had I before known this young man his son, I should have given him tears unto entreaties, Ere he should thus have ventured. I cannot speak to her, yet she urged conference. Re-enter LE BEAU. O poor Orlando! thou art overthrown: you To leave this place. Albeit you have deserved Le Beau. Neither his daughter, if we judge by manners; But yet, indeed, the shorter is his daughter: But that the people praise her for her virtues, I shall desire more love and knowledge of you. Orl. I rest much bounden to you: fare you well! [Exit LE BEAU. Thus must I from the smoke into the smother; Enter CELIA and ROSALIND. Cel. Why, cousin; why, Rosalind!-Cupid have mercy!-not a word? Ros. Not one to throw at a dog. Cel. No, thy words are too precious to be cast away upon curs; throw some of them at me: come, lame me with reasons. Ros. Then there were two cousins laid up; when the one should be lamed with reasons, and the other mad without any. Cel. But is all this for your father? Ros. No, some of it for my father's child.-O, how full of briars is this working-day world! Cel. They are but burs, cousin, thrown upon thee in holiday foolery: if we walk not in the trodden paths, our very petticoats will catch them. Ros. I could shake them off my coat: these burs are in my heart. Cel. Hem them away. Ros. I would try; if I could cry "Hem," and have him. Cel. Come, come, wrestle with thy affections. Ros. O, they take the part of a better wrestler than myself. Cel. O, a good wish upon you! you will try in time, in despite of a fall.-But, turning these jests out of service, let us talk in good earnest: Is it possible, on such a sudden, you should fall into so strong a liking with old Sir Rowland's youngest son? Ros. The Duke my father loved his father dearly. Cel. Doth it therefore ensue that you should love his son dearly? By this kind of chase, I should hate him, for my father hated his father dearly; yet I hate not Orlando. Ros. No, 'faith: hate him not, for my sake. Cel. Why should I not? doth he not deserve well? Ros. Let me love him for that; and do you love him because I do.-Look, here comes the Duke. Cel. With his eyes full of anger. Enter DUKE FREDERICK, with Lords. Duke F. Mistress, despatch you with your safest haste, And get you from our court. I do beseech your grace, Let me the knowledge of my fault bear with me. Or have acquaintance with mine own desires; Duke F. Thus do all traitors; If their purgation did consist in words, They are as innocent as grace itself.— Let it suffice thee, that I trust thee not. Ros. Yet your mistrust cannot make me a traitor : Tell me whereon the likelihood depends. Duke F. Thou art thy father's daughter; there's enough. Ros. So was I when your highness took his So was I when your highness banished him. Or, if we did derive it from our friends, Cel. Dear sovereign, hear me speak. Duke F. Ay, Celia; we stayed her for your sake, Else had she with her father ranged along. Cel. I did not then entreat to have her stay, It was your pleasure, and your own remorse; I was too young that time to value her, But now I know her. If she be a traitor, Why so am I we still have slept together, Rose at an instant, learned, played, eat together; And wheresoe'er we went, like Juno's swans, Still we went coupled and inseparable. Duke F. She is too subtle for thee; and her smoothness, Her very silence, and her patience, Speak to the people, and they pity her. Thou art a fool: she robs thee of thy name; And thou wilt shew more bright, and seem more virtuous, When she is gone: then open not thy lips; Which I have passed upon her: she is banished. liege; I cannot live out of her company. Duke F. You are a fool.-You, niece, provide yourself: Cel. No? hath not! Rosalind lacks, then, the love Which teacheth thee that thou and I am one. Shall we be sundered? shall we part, sweet girl? No; let my father seek another heir. Therefore devise with me, how we may fly, Whither to go, and what to bear with us: And do not seek to take your change upon you, To bear your griefs yourself, and leave me out; For, by this heaven, now at our sorrows pale, Say what thou canst, I'll go along with thee. Ros. Why, whither shall we go? Cel. To seek my uncle in the forest of Arden. Ros. Alas, what danger will it be to us, Maids as we are, to travel forth so far! Beauty provoketh thieves sooner than gold. Cel. I'll put myself in poor and mean attire, Ros. Were it not better, A boar-spear in my hand; and (in my heart Cel. What shall I call thee, when thou art a man? own page, And therefore look you call me Ganymede. Cel. Something that hath a reference to my state: No longer Celia, but Aliena. Ros. But, cousin, what if we assayed to steal The clownish fool out of your father's court? Would he not be a comfort to our travel? Cel. He'll go along o'er the wide world with me; Leave me alone to woo him. Let's away, And get our jewels and our wealth together; Devise the fittest time, and safest way To hide us from pursuit that will be made After my flight. Now go we in content, To liberty, and not to banishment. [Exeunt. SCENE I.-The Forest of Arden. Enter DUKE Senior, AMIENS, and other Lords, in the dress of Foresters. Duke S. Now, my co-mates, and brothers in exíle, Hath not old custom made this life more sweet Sermons in stones, and good in everything. Ami. I would not change it. Happy is your The melancholy Jaques grieves at that; Duke S. But what said Jaques? 1st Lord. O yes, into a thousand similes. First, for his weeping in the needless stream: "Poor deer," quoth he, "thou mak'st a testament As worldlings do, giving thy sum of more To that which had too much." Then, being there alone, Left and abandoned of his velvet friends; 'Tis just the fashion. Wherefore do you look 2nd Lord. We did, my lord, weeping and commenting Upon the sobbing deer. SCENE II.-A Room in the Palace. Enter DUKE FREDERICK, Lords, and Attendants. 1st Lord. I cannot hear of any that did see her. The ladies, her attendants of her chamber, Saw her a-bed; and, in the morning early, They found the bed untreasured of their mistress. 2nd Lord. My lord, the roynish clown, at whom so oft Your grace was wont to laugh, is also missing. Your daughter and her cousin much commend Duke F. Send to his brother: fetch that gallant hither; If he be absent, bring his brother to me; SCENE III.-Before OLIVER's House. Enter ORLANDO and ADAM, meeting. Orl. Who's there? Adam. What! my young master?-O, my gentle master; O, my sweet master; O, you memory Of old Sir Rowland! why, what make you here? O, what a world is this, when what is comely Orl. Why, what's the matter? Come not within these doors; within this roof The enemy of all your graces lives: Your brother (no, no brother; yet the son Yet not the son;-I will not call him son- He will have other means to cut you off: I overheard him, and his practices. Orl. Why, whither, Adam, wouldst thou have me go? Adam. No matter whither, so you come not here. Orl. What, wouldst thou have me go and beg my food? Or, with a base and boisterous sword, enforce I rather will subject me to the malice Of a diverted blood, and bloody brother. crowns, The thrifty hire I saved under your father, |